Viclaraously
by Princess Pinky
Summary: The Doctor tries to work out why he was okay with Clara dating Adrian Davies, but not Danny Pink.


**A/N:** This idea was inspired by the events of "The Caretaker" and takes place following its events, so I guess there's probably a minor spoiler warning.

_**Viclaraously**_

He shouldn't be spying. He _knew_ he shouldn't be spying, but he was spying. A soldier. He wrote it on the wall—_soldier_—and the chalk letters glared back with their imperfect lines. His eyes trailed back to the monitor and he caught Danny's hand caressing Clara's cheek. He backhanded the side of the monitor, sending it spinning halfway around the console.

_Now, Sweetie…_

For a moment he could almost see her Louboutins hanging from the monitor. The Doctor turned back to the wall.

The voice in his head cleared her throat. _I was a soldier._

"Leave me alone."

_So was Jenny._

"And a soldier killed her."

_Danny saved people. You looked him up, you know…he built wells._

"Wells run dry," he snapped.

_So do rivers._

"Leave me alone," he said again and closed his eyes.

_You don't mean that._

"No," he sighed. "I don't."

_Adrian_, the voice whispered. _You liked him. Why?_

The Doctor considered that and when he was finished he found that he had drawn a bowtie on the wall. He pressed his thumb to the center and stared at the white smudge on valleys of his skin.

_I miss the bowtie._

He nodded.

_You once told my mother that you needed companions so you could see it again._

"Don't."

_Seeing Clara and the Man with the Bowtie—_

"Stop it."

_You were so cute then, so baby faced and gangly. A boyfriend._

"We're married." The word felt foreign on his lips. It had been so long since he'd said it; so long since he'd introduced his wife to anyone. Take out the apostrophe and—

No.

The deep, dull aches in his hearts made him realize what it must have been like for River each time she saw him before their hands had been tied together on that fateful pyramid. It was one thing suspecting, even suspecting to the point of agonizing certainty, but it was another thing altogether to _know_.

_You're a selfish old man, My Love._

He couldn't argue with that. "Always correct."

_You or I?_

"What's the difference anymore?" The Doctor pressed his fist to the chalky bowtie and scrubbed it until it was just a white blur.

_You can't love vicariously._

He snapped the chalk stick he was holding in half. "Then pray tell, Dear: how do I?!"

"Doctor?"

The old man bristled at the rush of Clara's voice.

"Who are you talking to?"

"No one!" he snapped. "Myself."

Danny's head poked into the TARDIS and the Doctor scowled.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be off…" He wiggled his fingers like a puppeteer.

Clara smiled gently. "I thought, well, I thought we could take Danny on a trip." 'Please?' she mouthed. "I want him to see what I see when I'm with you."

"I told her it wasn't a good idea," Danny said, still hesitant to step inside.

"Then we'll go," the Doctor decided.

Clara glared. "Not if you're only going to prove him wrong."

The TARDIS's door swung back, swatting Danny's backside and causing him to stumble inside. The door promptly shut and the engines roared to life without The Doctor's hands ever touching the console.

"Oi!" Clara scolded, raising a finger towards the roof. "He hasn't done a thing to you!"

Danny blinked. "Does someone else have the invisibility watch now?"

"It's the ship," Clara deadpanned. "She's got a bigger on the inside attitude."

The ship jerked, just enough to send Clara—but not Danny or The Doctor—off balance. Clara snorted as Danny offered a hand to help her up. She brushed her knees and noticed a snag on nylon and a hole in the knee of the other where a minor scrape peered out. "Where are we going?"

The Doctor rounded the console to the monitor, but despite his attempts to access the coordinates, the TARDIS refused. "Bloody ship." At that, the ship landed—on silent—but with enough temper to force The Doctor to sprawl forward onto the console.

The doors swung open and Clara choked back a gasp. "Is that–"

"My wife."

"He's married?" Danny whispered.

"A widow," Clara returned in an equally hushed voice.

"But–"

"Time travel."

The Doctor snapped his fingers but the doors refused to budge.

Clara whipped her head around. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "That's her, that's River Song! Go to her!"

"You stay out of this!"

"No." Clara pointed upwards. "She brought you here for a reason."

"Oh, now you two decide to agree on something!"

"Doctor," Clara breathed. "Go to her." She looked over her shoulder: the scene outside the doors appeared to be a library of some sort and River was hunched over a table, scribbling into something that looked like a blue covered book. "There are people who would give the world to see their loved ones just one more time," she said, her voice drifting in time with her mind, thinking of her father and what he would do to hold her mother again.

The Doctor cautiously peered around the central column and his limbs quivered. She looked less like The Library and more like Berlin. His eyes strayed to the monitor again and this time it gave a location: _Luna University_. "She's too young."

"But you meet out of order," Clara persisted. "You don't have to be a widower anymore…"

The Doctor bowed his head. "I can be her boyfriend. Again."

Danny shook his head and looked to Clara for understanding.

'I'll explain later,' she mouthed.

"Miss?"

River looked up at the librarian, her head turned away from the direction of the TARDIS.

"I'm afraid we only have _The Tempest_ in fiction mist and a direct-to-brain download."

The Doctor noted the sag in her shoulders.

"Would you like me to get one of those?"

"No," River sighed. "Thank you."

Clara turned to The Doctor, folded her arms, and gave her best stern teacher face until he relented and disappeared up the stairs.

To his credit, Danny waited until they could no longer hear the metal tang of The Doctor's footsteps and then raised his eyebrows for an explanation.

"It's hard to explain, I don't know the whole story. They were married before I met him and she died. But then I met her in this psychic dream and she kept the line open, but after I jumped into his timestream I couldn't talk to her anymore. He mentions her from time to time, but he's non-specific about the details. All I know is that they met out of order and that when she died he made a 'backup copy' but wouldn't say goodbye to her. It's a tragedy."

Danny smiled before he could stop himself: not because the story was in any way humorous, but because he knew Clara meant it when she said tragedy, as in the Shakespearean kind, not a form of exaggeration. She was an English teacher through and through. "I never imagined him as a husband."

"It takes a bit of getting used to." Clara placed her hand over Danny's. "I guess he's a more complex character than you thought, hm?"

Danny glanced out the doors again. "What did you say her name was?"

"River." The Doctor had reappeared. "River Song."

"Professor," Clara added.

"Spoilers," The Doctor said, pressing his fingers to his lips. He skirted around Clara and Danny and entered the university library, noting the TARDIS had parked herself in a reference aisle. The Doctor pulled a small mirror from his inner breast pocket and gave himself a once over, then he approached River from behind. He peered over her bushel of curls and saw her writing notes to herself on a clean page of her diary:

_Now I want spirits to enforce, art to enchant, and my ending is despair…_

"'Unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so that it assaults–'"

"'Mercy itself and frees all faults,'" River interrupted.

The Doctor smiled. "'As you from crimes would pardon'd be–'"

"'Let your indulgences set me free.'" River pushed a curl behind her ear and scrunched her features to study him.

In the TARDIS, Clara looped her arm in Danny's. "We shouldn't be spying."

"I can fix that." Danny turned to her and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

Clara leaned in, snapping her fingers as their lips touched.

"I couldn't help but overhear," The Doctor said and proffered a tome from under his arm.

River gingerly accepted the pristine edition of _The Tempest_. "And you are?"

"Honored to make your acquaintance."


End file.
